Hilliard was not long in slipping back to his former position at the
porthole.

"By Jove!" Bulla was saying. "And to think that two years ago I was
working a little coaster at twenty quid a month! And you, Coburn;
two years ago you weren't much better fixed, if as well, eh?"

Coburn ignored the question.

"It's good, but it's not good enough," he declared. "This thing
can't run for ever. If we go on too long somebody will tumble to
it. What we want is to try to get our piles made and close it
down before anything happens. We ought to have that other ship
running. We could double our income with another ship and another
depot. And Swansea seems to me the place."

"Bulla and I were just talking of that before you came aboard," the
captain answered. "You know we have considered that again and again,
and we have always come to the conclusion that we are pushing the
thing strongly enough."

"Our organization has improved since then. We can do more now with
less risk. It ought to be reconsidered. Will you go into the
thing, skipper?"

"Certainly. I'll bring it before our next meeting. But I won't
promise to vote for it. In our business it's not difficult to kill
the goose, etcetera."

The talk drifted to other matters, while Hilliard, thrilled to